Sweet and Twisted Triathlon: August 16th

Sweet and Twisted, my first Austin Triathlon. What a day! I had been nervous the entire weekend, and more so because of the soreness of my legs due to a heavy class load on Thursday. Note to self, do not teach 4 classes a few days before your first major Triathlon! I also had nerves because this was a big race, supposedly 800 participants, and my lack of bike mechanics were scaring me a bit as well.

On the morning of the race, I just knew that my only goal was to finish and to run the overwhelming emotions of a deteriorating relationship and the confusion of my father's recent seizure that had left him unable to walk. So on Sunday, I was running the race because Dad could not run!

When I arrived the jitters became reality. Where do I rack my bike? How do I put air in my tires? How do I set up the transition area? Where's Maurice and T3? My questions were answered rather quickly as I walked into transition. T3 had a prime spot. It was then that I knew I would be okay.

I was greeted by my friend Amie who I know from the gym, and knowing she was right there calmed me down, though she was a nervous wreck. I think I would be too if I had prospects of being top 20! Then there was this woman Kathryn! Oh how she lighted up my world with hair ribbons, blue beaded bracelets, and a soothing enthusiasm that filled my nervous body into much needed race energy. She absolutely rocked from first thing in the morning, to the bike course, and then at the finish line. At that moment I was so proud to be part of T3.

Then there was Maurice. "I'm here to Pump you Up!" He was there, early, awake, and ready to make sure that I was ready to race. A big hug welcomed me to my first race and a skeptical look made me realize that I need to pay attention to the pressure of my tires more often. A rookie for sure!

Amie and I took a walk, I mean a ridiculous hike, down to the swim. Wonderful! A uphill 400m run to transition area. I was thinking, "What did I get myself into." However, once we jumped into the water and I swam a few 100m, I knew that I was ready. And the excitement of the ladies lining up for the race started to actually give me peace. It was race time!

The swim, though I would never have thought this, was the easiest leg of the race. I had to breath stroke a few times after a few punches to the head and side, but I predominantly swam. I just kept on thinking of a swim practice with T3 on July 5th that kicked my butt, (800m warm up, Thanks Mo), and I knew that this was a piece of cake. I came out of the water strong, stuck my muddy feet in my tennies, and proceeded to run up hill to my bike. Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

The bike was challenging, though my strong squat conditioned legs cruised the course. It was my back that spoke to me for the entire distance. I do not train enough on my bike. It was then that I was thinking about rescheduling my Saturday clients so I can train with the team more often. However, the second loop brought confidence. Again, I just put myself in Maurice's spin on Thursday evening, changing gears smoothly and concentrating on my peddle stroke.

I was off the bike strong, fired up by hearing my name shouted by the T3 men, awwww shocks! Thanks guys, because at that moment, I knew that the fight had just begun. I come from a running background, 100m sprinter back in the day, 800m competitor when my speed was overcome by puberty, and a die hard soccer player who went back to her high school team to apprentice as the conditioning coach. So my thoughts were always about how the run would be my triumph, my victory, my secret weapon. Boy was I mistaken. Ever since I started to train for Triathlon it's the run that has suffered. Heavy legs from the bike, a horrible bout of side cramps, and a fatigued upper body from learning how to swim. It's been a humbling experience, and some times I have had to call my father up to ease the tears after the blistering, ego destroying track workouts.

After a half mile, my legs were dead. Not just bricks, but cement that never got to be formed into anything worth using to build anything. @#$%^&! And this I yelled a couple of times under my breath. It was comforting to see many other ladies struggling as well, whom I knew as runners also.

At the 1 mile marker I told myself to get it together, to suck it up, to remember why I was running. "Run stronger, faster, longer, and harder because Dad cannot!" And that was it. A slow, steady trot to the finish line for daddy, the man who bought my first pair of pink running shoes when I was 5 and who discovered that my legs were all about 100m speed.

When I came out of the lonely, excruciatingly hot run course, I finally felt the energy of the crowd. Seriously, that was a lonely run! I looked at my time and thought, "Funny, slowest 5k ever." And then I just laughed. Chelsea, you just swam 500m, biked 16 miles (felt like 100), and ran 3.1 miles through the dessert (felt like that). So buck up and finish strong! And I did. Greeted by icy towels and Amie, I then knew it was all worth it.

I stood at the finish line and I wanted to cry. I was proud of myself. This was the first time in a year that I committed to something other than work! This was not about a PR or being the best. This was about establishing time for myself to try something new, and to most importantly have fun!

And I did. Where else can you put yourself through hell and then get to eat ice cream at the end? Triathlon of course.

It reminded me of those long days on the field and Dad would take us to get an ice cream cone with sprinkles. Sweet and Twisted. My first Triathlon. What an experience. And to top that off, Dad walked later that evening! It was all worth it.